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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23901124">A Warrior's Fate</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aronoiiel/pseuds/aronoiiel'>aronoiiel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Depression, Gen, Mental Health Issues</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:42:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,427</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23901124</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aronoiiel/pseuds/aronoiiel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kind of a companion piece to A Warrior's Protection.</p><p>Honestly I am just writing these as an outlet foe my own depreasion so none of them are gonna make sense really. Sorry. I am not really good at writing things.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Warrior's Fate</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Glorfindel wandered the halls lost as to what he was doing there. He paused before a tapestry made during a time of pure contentment. The family of his close friend were smiling. Something they rarely did after the Darkening. He turned to continue his path. He still had no idea why he had come. </p><p>The hall seemed endless until he arrived at a small delicately decorated door. An elf stood there. One he had not often got along with. He was rather coarse in those days. "My father knew you would come." Curufin murmured. He was subdued. Not at all like the elf he once had been. Tempered by events none of them could predict. </p><p>Glorfindel gave the smallest nod. And continued forward as the prince opened the door. The heat hit him like a soothing balm. He looked to the two hearths. They were cold. The warmth came from the lone occupant. The light from glow stones set in well designed globes. The room held little decorations. Fëanor sat upon his bed fiddling with a small trinket. </p><p>Glorfindel bowed. The Crowned Prince, despite his missteps, held his respect. "I have come to answer your summons." He kept his eyes on the elf before him. Moved so his back was to a wall and not to the door his son watched still. A chuckle drew his curious eyes. </p><p>"Do you suspect an ambush, Laurefindel?" He had not looked up from his creation. </p><p>Glorfindel blinked. Took notice of what he had done on pure habit. And grinned. Bringing his hand to his heart he inclined his head. "Nay. Old habits. Instincts far to honed by endless need for awareness. No disresepct was intended."</p><p>Fëanor laughed his intense gaze lifting to his guest. "More than simply guarding one's back would be required to truly harm my pride." His voice was surprisingly soft. Yet held a commanding presence unmistakable for his station. "I will have tea brought if that will make you less on edge."</p><p>Glorfindel chuckled yet shook his head. "I am in no need of refreshments, though I thank you for the offer." He tilted his head. His well known smile plastered on his lips. "I would like to know why the cryptic summons to your home. If I may." </p><p>Again Fëanor laughed. The forwardness was refreshing. Laurefindel never was one to play mind games. "You would not have come had I simply asked for a visit." He set his mess of wires, ribbons, and metal aside. Standing he moved to one of his hearths. It lit as if in response to his very Fëa. In front of them were two plush chairs. One a lovely burgundy with golden trim. The other green with silver and brown designs. "Come."</p><p>Curious he moved over to the green chair. Running his hands along the soft fabric. "Nerdanel's influence is obvious in this piece." He muttered. And sat gently. Turning to Fëanor who flopped down in his chair he sighed. "My Lord I do not wish-" </p><p>Fëanor's intense gaze was tempered by a gentle compassion not many are privy to. "Do not think in my reclusive imprisonment here that I have not had word of how you are aiding Nelyafinwë. I know well the dangers you have placed yourself in to navigate his inner turmoil."</p><p>Glorfindel's denial was cut short by the gentle hand that took his own sword roughened fingers. "You have often kept Nelyo and that troublesome first born of my half brother from darker things. And I am greatful beyond any language I could create for that. Now. You endanger your very Fëa to help mend what even your Master Elrond cannot touch."</p><p>Glorfindel's fingers curled against his will knowing the agony Fëanor felt at not being able to help his own child. "We have been friends since our schooling days. I would not willingly abandon him. No matter the battle he fights."</p><p>Fëanor grinned at this. "Ever the valiant warrior. Entering the throws of battle." Fëanor's eyes took on a dangerous light. "Battles that leave you injured. Suffering. Dying. Lost. Tell me Laurefindel. What purpose do you use my son's suffering. Truly."</p><p>Glorfindel could not hold the intense gaze upon him. "I-have no agend-" he winced as the hand upon his tightened. Not painfully. Simply in warning. "I-was where he was. My Lord. Still slip into the Darkness within. I-" he did not bother to hide the tears stinging his eyes. "I cannot watch my friend suffer as I still suffer. Not-without knowing I have tried to guide him back to the light that resides within." </p><p>Fëanor's grip eased his thumb massaging tendons. "And who helps you with the torment you not only hold within, but also take from my child? Taking to much upon yourself is how you found your first death." </p><p>Glorfindel gave him a cautious look. Not many would mention his death to his face. </p><p>Fëanor did not grin. Did not glare. Simply remained calm and intense with his presence. "I had thought so. If you wish to continue aiding my son in his battles I will allow it. Under the condition that you come to me. Every six months. Or sooner if your need is great. I will be the one who aids your own journey." He withdrew his hand and turned so he fully face Glorfindel. "I will not see you save my son only to find your own fall once again."</p><p>Glorfindel sat staring now into the fires of the hearth. "I have plenty who would see me remain as I am." His voice was quiet. As a child being chastised by a parent. "I am more than capable of controlling that which resides within me."</p><p>Fëanor raised an eyebrow and simply grinned at the elf before him. "You forget who you speak to, balrog slayer of Gondolin. I have seen more than my share of deception. You do not fool me. And I will not have my eldest find his path again only to loose one of his two closest friends." The room's heat increased as he spoke. </p><p>Glorfindel turned to challenge him. He was grown and no elfling needing to be told how to handle his own situation. He paused middway opening his mouth. The elf before him was not the one full of fiery anger he remembered. No. He held challenge in his eyes. Tempered with compassion. Fëanor had indeed changed much. </p><p>They sat quietly watching each other for quite some time. The passage of which meant little to their kin. Glorfindel was torn between a deaperate pull to tell this elf prince all he had longed to say to Erestor. Elrond. Thranduil. The elves he trusted every ounce of his being to. Yet. Not enough to cover them with his shadows. </p><p>Instead he stood and walked over to the hearth. Looking down at the hand Fëanor had grabbed. "I cannot give word on something that I do not know for certain I will do." He ignored the fact the prince had risen and now stood beside him. "I cannot promise I-" his vouce atuck as pain clenched his chest. </p><p>Fëanor took his arm and pulled him into his embrace. Firm yet not harsh. "You have held onto your own shadows long enough young one. My half-brother is no fool yet his heart is to soft to push from you the poisons that fester and grow." Pulling back he lifted the golden head from his shoulders. One thumb clearing a tear drop from his chin. "You heal my eldeat from wounds only those who suffer can find. Allow me to do the same for you. I will not allow you to drown Laurefindel. Of that you have my word."</p><p>Glorfindel did not look in his eyes. So much was surfacing and he did not want to deal with it. He tried to push the pain down. To force his chest to expand so he may breath. To ignore the voices clammering for the rule of his body. He was tired. So. Very. Tired. </p><p>Fëanor did not need an answer from the lips of this elf. He did not need a nod of his head. No he knew all to well the battle his son and this elf fought. And he knew the look of relief and desperate hope the offer of aid brings. He pulled the elf to his embrace again. "You will stay here no less than three days. We will begin now. Both you and my son will find the paths you belong to once more."</p>
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